


one way or another

by mochis



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Art Thief AU, Blow Jobs, Crimes & Criminals, Enemies to Lovers, Frottage, Light Bondage, M/M, Porn With Plot, SouthernerTM alfred, and back to enemies, and back to lovers, channeling my inner Texan for this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2019-07-07 04:50:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15901233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochis/pseuds/mochis
Summary: A successful art heist is ruined by a rigid, nosy cop, but Alfred didn't expect him to be so damn good looking.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is based off of an rp (that was sadly never finished) between a good friend and I over a year back. She had the fantastic idea for an art thief au, and while she doesn't totally ship ameripan, she still did it for my dumb ass 
> 
> this took way too long to rewrite and finish on my own ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿ this babey was 18 pages long!!!

It was, by far, a very successful heist.

At least, that’s what Alfred thought as he wormed his way onto the roof of the London National Gallery, alarms blaring beneath him. He gripped his newest addition to his art collection - one of the dozens of Fabergé eggs created for the Russian Imperial Family itself - as he made a mad dash towards the edge of the roof, eyes darting from corner to alleyway for the safest way possible down. Given the bells and whistles going off from his little outing, Alfred had no doubt that the police would be on the scene in no time. He needed a way down and away by yesterday.

As Alfred scrambled for a way down the building, his mind wandered towards tomorrow’s headlines. The National Gallery had been knocked down one egg in their precious collection, and it was due to the elusive thief known as the Black Ghost.  The Ghost always left little to no trace of his conquest wherever a priceless piece of art was stolen, except for a black silken handkerchief with a silver "Ghost" embroidered on one of its corners. Alfred Fitzgerald Jones, the black-clad burglar behind the entire scheme, thought it was cheesy. But when you had both the time and funds from reaping hundreds of millions with each visit to an art museum or a collection, you do cheesy.

He paused his internal gloating to focus on getting away swiftly. His feet finally on the ground, the blonde took off running towards the nearest alleyway, the sound of sirens getting louder at a rather fast rate. Evacuating the scene was always his favorite part of these late night museum visits, besides the actual taking and/or swiping. He thrived for the chase, adrenaline rush pumping in his veins as he was forced to think quick on his feet and trust his senses to navigate him through this maze of alleyways and streets. It wouldn’t be long now until Alfred reached his getaway car. Victory couldn't get any sweeter than this, and it was beginning to feel more tangible.

Little did Alfred know, a certain detective shared similar sentiments towards his own victory as he followed the sounds of boots hitting the ground through the same alleyways.

The Black Ghost hadn’t always been top priority for the police department that Kiku Honda had found himself deployed in. It was only after many successful heists that everyone’s attention began to gravitate more and more towards the infamous thief, and Kiku was no exception. Having been transferred from his original police branch a few years ago, it didn’t take very long for the detective to become a respected and recognized member of the force through his diligent work habits and unbreakable concentration. Therefore, it only made sense to grant him with the difficult task of tracking down the roguish art thief - a task which he took with utmost gravity.

The moment he was informed that there had been another art bust, squadrons were sent out like speeding bullets, himself included, to hopefully reach the scene in time to finally seize the burglar. The Ghost couldn’t have been able to leave the museum so quickly; even if he was able to dodge the multiple security measures set against him, he wasn’t superhuman. His speed was only so fast and he was bound to make some sort of mistake, and Kiku would surely use this to his advantage. Months of studying his movements and patterns have prepared him well enough to predict his next move.

The detective left his car at the museum, hastily parked with several other cop cars as he opted to chase after the thief on foot. Knowing the Ghost, he would choose to go through dark alleyways and rooftops over public streets that could give away his position. There were several buildings surrounding the museum, alleyways twisting and turning under the moonlight of that evening, and without a second thought, Kiku dashed off in the direction of one of the buildings, adrenaline quickening his speed. This _had_ to be it - the night that the thief was finally put behind bars and months of work would finally be validated. Art curators could rest in peace knowing that one less vandal would be off the streets, and all thanks to a certain detective that no one thought would actually capture the Ghost. It was a vain thought, he’d admit, but nothing else motivated him more.

Sirens were blaring on the streets, cars speeding past in an attempt to pinpoint the Ghost’s position in the city. The alleyways were beginning to look the same and while confusing, the detective pushed on, knowing that the thief _had_ to be lurking around in one of them, evading the police. Kiku kept a hand on the glock under his trenchcoat, nestled near the back of his person, though doubted he would need to actually use it against the Ghost; he didn’t have a record of being aggressive or violent, in fact, it was quite the opposite. His methods were silent and sly, cleverly avoiding almost all security measures that any museum had. It was almost admirable, if he weren’t a thief.

Just as he was about to turn down another alleyway, he heard the distinct sound of footsteps hitting the pavement beneath them. His heart hammered near painfully against his chest as he quieted his own footsteps, praying that the person on the other side of the wall was indeed the Ghost and not some poor bum that would surely be startled into a heart attack.

Kiku pulled his gun from his trousers, keeping it pointed straight ahead as he stepped out from behind the wall. “Don’t move!”

His voice was loud, echoing throughout the alleyway as the person before him instantly froze. He was dressed in black from head to toe, and he couldn’t see his face from his position, but he knew that he had finally done it. Keeping his voice steady despite the burst of pride washing over him, he ordered, “Raise your hands where I can see them.”

Alfred brushed his fingers against the pack strapped to his thigh in which the small stolen piece of artwork sat hidden. Despite every nerve in his body telling him not to do it, Alfred hesitantly raised his hands to level with his head. Anger and frustration flared throughout him. His beat-up getaway car was only a block away, and his anxiety-ridden getaway driver was certainly beginning to wonder where he was right about then.

Though agitated, Alfred was hit with a sudden wave of anxiety. He’d been _caught_ , and while he was always one to talk - or punch, if need be - his way out of things, this was far different here. Here he was caught at the end of an alleyway with a gun pointed directly at his back. For the first time in his thieving career, Alfred F. Jones was terrified.

Still, he could act through the fear. Turning around slowly to face the bastard that had dared to point a gun at him, he held back a sigh of relief. Nearly a foot shorter than him and practically drowning under his trenchcoat, the cop in front of him was smallfry.

Kiku could feel the burglar’s eyes boring into him through the holes of his ski mask, sizing him up. He tightened his grip on his gun.

As previously established by none other than himself, Alfred was nervous. But never frightened. Even if it was by a cop, who at this point, couldn't exactly legally shoot him. Not with his hands in the air. However, dealing with an agent in law enforcement wasn't a better position, either. Especially when the other party was armed and you've barely any weapons but your tools for thieving and your recent catch. Trying to outrun the other in what seemed to be unfamiliar territory was a bad idea, too. Alfred’s mind went in a thousand different directions, trying to come up with an outcome that didn’t result in him either a) dead or b) behind bars.

With the extremely small block of time he had before the detective could slap handcuffs on his wrists, he figured he would at least try talking his way out of this uncomfortable situation.

“Look, I don’t have a weapon on me,” he said, the briefest southern drawl tipping his words, “so you can put yours down.”

“I don’t think so.” Kiku narrowed at his eyes, nodding towards the pack strapped to Alfred’s thigh. “What’s that?”

The blonde winced, glancing from the multi-million artwork sitting in his pack to the detective. “Exactly what you chased me down for.”

“ _You’re_ the Black Ghost.” The detective trailed his eyes over the man, skepticism written across his face. “Really.”

Alfred tried for a grin, standing a bit straighter. “So you’ve heard of me.” Without missing a beat, he quickly added, “Listen, you look the decent type. If you let me off, I can -”

“I’m afraid that isn’t going to happen.” Kiku replied cooly. There was no where else for the Ghost to run, and they both knew it. Unless he knew how to climb walls, he was completely trapped, though the detective had no time to congratulate himself on a capture well done. Inching forward slowly, he realized that the Ghost was telling the truth in that he carried no weapons. Kiku lowered the gun slightly, knowing that he could not shoot due to the other’s lack of self-defense. Everything except his eyes were concealed, which were a bright blue that unsettled - or intrigued? - Kiku.

He was about a few feet away from him now, and intended to get him cuffed as soon as possible with the least amount of resistance. “I’ve been trying to catch you for months, Ghost. Make this easier on yourself. If you willingly give up, the other authorities won’t be as harsh on you.”

Alfred didn't take note of the way the officer was subtly progressing forth until he was a mere few feet away. His heart hammered against his chest. With the time wasted amidst such an insignificant surprise, Alfred was positive the alarmed officers on his tail had already gone and secured locations, blocking any means of an escape. Even after he spent a hard year planning for this; getting his face known under a fake name, acquainting himself with employees, snatching a blueprint for the targeted art gallery, and studying the damn thing like a textbook for god knows how long. His attempts were wiped out by a single man.

Still, he wasn’t blind to the way Kiku lowered the gun.

“Aren’t you being sorta unfair towards your colleagues, keeping me all to yourself like this?” Alfred went on, the mask over his face becoming more and more uncomfortably hot.

“I think I deserve to be a little selfish.” The corner of his lips quirked into a smile too sweet to be genuine. If Kiku didn’t know any better, he’d say that the thief was actually becoming nervous, from the way he kept trying to fill the silence between them with what could only be described as distracted chatter. Unless he was stalling for something else - and the moment that thought crossed his mind, the detective’s grip on his weapon tightened even more. He would not be caught off-guard.

“Enough stalling.” He said, a hand reaching for the handcuffs clipped to his trousers. This was beginning to drag out longer than it should.

Just as he was about to attempt to pin the other’s wrists together to cuff him, a tune broke the heavy anxiety in the air, and his eyes immediately found the source of the buzzing. Why Alfred carried a cell phone around with him was a bit of a debatable topic, and when it suddenly began ripping out a familiar hum whilst buzzing against his leg, he knew he should've just left it at home - or at least with his getaway driver.

Which happened to be the culprit of the untimely call. Alfred knew this because if he knew his brother, he would know that the boy couldn’t sit still for two seconds during these escapades. If anything happened to him, Alfred didn’t know what he’d do - with himself or to anyone who tried to hurt him - and the thought of his brother Matthew being arrested sent his anxiety flying.

Kiku said nothing, but cocked an eyebrow in the Ghost’s direction. He noticed the other’s sudden apprehension: the widened eyes, irregular breathing - though it was subtle. Who could be on the other end of that line to make him so fearful? His mind began racing through several different possibilities; it could be another thief, a partner, perhaps even a _crime lord_. That bust would certainly catch the headlines of the papers.

Alfred laughed, albeit awkwardly. “What a time to get a call...”

With a small nod towards the device strapped to the Ghost’s thigh, Kiku suggested, “You should take that. Unless you’d prefer _me_ to answer for you.”

“Really?” The thief blinked in surprise before shaking his head, “I mean, no, uh, I’ll take it - it’s probably my mom, or something...wondering where I went off to. Don’t think she’d appreciate an officer answering.”

“I’m sure she’s _very_ worried.”

He quickly turned towards the wall behind him, hands scrambling to pull out his phone and practically smack it to his ear. There wasn't a point in looking to identify the caller ID.

“Um, hello -”

“Where the hell are you?” Matthew yelled, distress obvious in his tone. Alfred had to pull the phone away from his ear for a moment. “It’s way past the time you said you’d be out and I keep hearing all these police cars and I know I look really fucking suspicious right now -”

“Ah, yeah, well, it’s...complicated,” The blonde glanced over his shoulder towards the detective, who had tucked his gun away and instead pulled a pair of handcuffs. Kiku crossed his arms over his chest, patiently waiting for him to finish his call with whoever was on the other line.

Alfred lowered his voice, “I still have what I came for, at least.”

“Oh, god. You got caught, didn’t you?”

“Matt, listen -”

“Oh my _god,_ Al, how many of them are there? Do you need me to pick you up?”

“It’s just _one_ cop, dude, hold on for a second,” He said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re smart. Stay where you are. I’ll get out of here and meet you at the rendezvous point.”

Matthew didn’t say anything.

“Answer me, Matt.” Alfred pressed.

“Fine, yeah, okay, I’ll stay put. Just don’t-don’t do anything stupid. And _please_ don’t get arrested.”

“Sure. Now don’t fucking call me again.”

With that, the call was ended and the phone was returned to its regular place. At this point, it was just pure stupidity to even think he had a chance of escape; he was weaponless and left with no means of exiting out of the alleyway unless he intended to fight his way through Kiku. Which, when looking at him, didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

Kiku sighed, uncrossing his arms. “You can’t seriously still be thinking of a way to escape. We both know you’re cornered. I have squadrons stationed all around this area, even if you _were_ to escape, you’d be captured again or possibly shot.”

He didn’t particularly like threatening others, but he felt it was necessary in this case. The Ghost was scared, and he would use that against him. He dropped the flat tone in lieu of a softer one, stepping closer. “You seem concerned for that person you were talking to. You wouldn’t want to get them captured, as well.”

Hearing Kiku mention Matthew made something in Alfred snap, both inwardly and outwardly. “Frankly, the rest of y'all are too stupid to even catch me. This is the fifth time I’ve waltzed away with some piece of crappy art right under your radar.”

 _Nearly_ waltzed away, at least. He didn’t correct himself, and Kiku only narrowed his eyes again. Hearing Alfred bad-mouth his fellow squad members only served to irritate Kiku further; this thief had no idea what he was even up against. His arrogance would be his downfall sooner or later.

Alfred figured he had a good ten seconds before cuffs were slapped onto his wrists and he was carted off to some rinky-dink detention center. He never liked calling it that; as if softer words took away the harsh implications of prison. Keeping his eyes on the man in front of him, an idea began to form in his head - a stupid, reckless and fueled by nothing but hope and the two cans of Monster he had earlier, but an idea nonetheless.

His lips twitched up into a smirk no one would ever really see. At least he’d go down with a fight.

“You’re my only real obstacle here, officer.” He said, his words slow.

Kiku immediately didn’t like the way the Ghost said those words.

“I’m more than capable of bringing you in, Ghost. Willingly or _unwillingly_.” The detective said, putting emphasis on the last word as a way of baring his fangs, so to speak. He was in control of this situation and in no more than a few more seconds he would have the burglar handcuffed -

Until the man in front of him whipped around. He grabbed onto the officer's shoulder and yanked, spinning him around, before he put both hands on the other's shoulders and slammed him against the brick wall. Alfred had him pinned in place faster than Kiku could process, rendering the detective at his mercy. The sudden outburst caught him off guard, his heart beginning to race once more as he felt a knee jam itself between his legs, along with the amount of painful force being pushed onto his shoulders. Kiku didn’t even have time to mentally scold himself for letting himself be taken off guard so easily; he was more concerned with how he was going to get out of this position.

“Drop your gun,” the blonde ordered, pressing him against the wall harder when he didn’t cooperate right away. “Don’t test me, officer, I know how to make a man scream. In more ways than one.”

Kiku almost ignored the command to drop his weapons, but thought better of it. He was in no position to be cheeky. After dropping the handcuffs in his hand, he pulled his glock from its place and let it drop to the ground alongside the cuffs, practically fuming at that point. He could feel the Ghost’s breath against his neck, brushing past the shell of his ear and he couldn’t help the involuntary shiver that ran up his spine. Despite this, Kiku kept his ground and tried not to give the other the satisfaction of witnessing the slight flush that overtook his cheeks, balling his hands into fists against the brick wall.

“Now what?” He spat, “You really think you can -”

“Honda, what’s your position?” A voice crackled through his radio tucked into his back pocket, and he quickly identified the voice as the chief inspector. There was an ironic moment of deja vu, except their positions had been dramatically switched.

Alfred found this quite entertaining. “Well, well, the tables sure have turned.”

One of his hands grabbed a fist full of the officer's hair, forcing his head back slightly as he dipped down to make eye contact. “That your boss or something? You look paler than you already do.”

Kiku didn’t answer, nor did he meet his eyes. The detective had been in tight situations before and managed to get away with his life, but this time was different. He wasn’t certain as to what would happen if he didn’t cooperate, and it _frightened_ him. Kiku was terrified of losing his job and possibly losing his _life_ if he didn’t do what this thief asked of him, and that fact also angered him beyond belief. To be cornered and held hostage by some second-rate, cheap and messy burglar was degrading and laughable. And Kiku Honda was anything _but_ laughable.

When the man didn’t answer, Alfred added, “Alright, well, you’re gonna tell him that things are great on your end, and that he’s worrying for nothing. Got it?”

He let go of the hair trapped between his fingers to reach down and grab the radio. He positioned the walkie-talkie right beside the detective's mouth. Alfred uttered a rough, "Talk," before pressing the appropriate button.

Despite Kiku’s overwhelming sense of pride, he knew he had to make a choice whether to live or die here in this dirty alley, to which he bit his lip and swallowed his pride, choosing to live. Licking his lips which had become dry, he glared daggers at the man holding him against the wall as he bit out, “Things are clear, Arthur. The Ghost must have taken a different route than expected. I advise you send out a search party towards the east.”

 _“East?_ But you were so sure -”

“I know, and I’ll deal with the repercussions of my mistake later.”  

The man sighed, and Kiku could imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose or running a hand through his unruly hair while doing so. “Fine, fine, just get back here, Kiku. I’m sending a squadron east now.”

Alfred caught the name and smiled to himself. That would certainly prove helpful later on.

The thief returned the radio to its pocket. "Y'all europeans ain’t too smart, huh?"

Once the walkie talkie was turned off and the grip on his hair was loosened a tiny bit, Kiku wriggled against the hold on his arms and head with a scowl, ignoring the jab towards his colleagues. “The police are headed the opposite direction from here. If I were a _wise_ criminal, I would take my leave right now. However, given by your lack of organization and agility, even _that_ might be difficult for you.”

Alfred touched the the glock by their feet with his toe, kicking it away. Using the grip on Kiku's shoulder, he flipped him around and held him up against the wall once again, a hand at his throat. He narrowed his eyes - his only visible facial attribute - at Kiku, who glared right back at him.

“You know,” he said, a hand reaching up to feather Kiku's chin, grabbing it hard as the other jerked it away. “You’re pretty cute, when you’re not spouting stupid crap.” His finger's constricted the detective's jaw, trapping it within his fingerless gloves.  “Yeah, I could get used to lookin’ at you.”

The combination of the attention and anxiety from being alone with this criminal caused a hot chill to run down Kiku’s spine, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the man in front of him. He was saying something - no, he was _insinuating_ something.

“You've got the entire goddamn force heading the wrong way, but I'm not gonna leave now. Not with you still on my back.” He grinned, tightening his grip on his throat slightly. “So, what now, Kiku?”

Kiku, startled into silence, had absolutely no answer to his question. He wasn’t looking forward to this - he _certainly_ hadn’t planned on this and certainly would not allow himself to be taken so easily by this man. His mind reeled at the possible outcomes of that night - he could be kidnapped, killed, or worse. There had to be a way out of this, there had to be a way for him to gain the upper hand once more and take control of this situation, there had to, there had to, _there had to -_

Kiku’s saving grace came in the form of the deafening drill of helicopter rotors nearing them by the second. A daunting light passed through a nearby alleyway, advancing the two. Without a second thought, Alfred grabbed Kiku's wrist and pulled him into a turn in the alleyway, about to make a break for the connection into the back lane before seeing the parked cop car at the end of the alley. It was no use; the police had already figured out their position. Kiku felt slightly guilty for ever doubting his police force, but could worry himself with future apologies later. The light was almost blinding as it finally shined down on the duo, and Kiku jerked his hand away from the Ghost’s grip. Suddenly, the helicopter’s light, now glaring down at him from the helicopter felt unbearably hot. 

Just like that - years of heists and smooth getaways, all down the drain.

Alfred slowly raised his hands, positioning them behind his head and shut his eyes.

It was gratifying to see him step away and raise his hands behind his head. The detective took the extra measure and swiftly kicked the back of the thief’s legs to push him onto his knees, and with one swift pull, he had the ridiculous mask off of him. A head of messy, dirty blonde hair was revealed, and when Kiku moved to stand in front of him, he was surprised to find a rather - _attractive_ face to go along with those hypnotic eyes. Freckles dusted across his cheeks, skin golden and darker than his own, and unkempt blonde locks brushing just above his eyes.

It wasn't until Kiku’s smug face appeared before his eyes had Alfred felt genuine anger collect within him. He wasn't one to get angry all too often or so easily, but it was something about the way they locked eyes, especially with Alfred kneeling, that set something dark off inside him. His knuckles were white from clenching his fists too hard and jaw rooted as an effort to remain silent, his hunched form exuded an animosity that was like acid -- burning, slicing, potent.

“Black Ghost,” Kiku found himself confidently saying, head held high, “you’re under arrest for attempted robbery. It would seem you americans ‘ain’t too smart’ either.”

Alfred grunted as another officer took ahold of his wrists, snapping cuffs onto them whilst simultaneously congratulating Kiku. He was pulled to his feet roughly, snapping at the officers who were handling him as if he were a sack of potatoes.

The thief’s gaze shifted to Kiku, brows pressing together. “Get your head outta your ass, Honda, you got lucky.”

He was shoved into one of the police cars, anger bubbling inside him, threatening to spill over and onto the only man who had managed to piss him off this much. Kiku matched his glare with a cool expression, his earlier flush long gone. Despite his newly-found (and rather overwhelming) sense of pride and confidence, Kiku knew he _had_ gotten lucky. He had sent his force towards the opposite side of the city and had more or less given up hope of capturing this man - but if his squad new Kiku, they would have suspected that he would not have let this criminal get away so easily.

Nevertheless, he watched as the blonde was shoved into one of the police cars at the scene with relief and a sense of accomplishment. When his superior told him to take the rest of the night off, he intended to do so with gusto.

 

* * *

 

It was Alfred's first time going through the whole process of “being arrested”. Spending the night in the dirty temporary jail cell at the office was much different from his usual nights in the - rather lovely, now, in hindsight - cheap motel he and Matthew had spent in for the past few days. He'd denied his right to fight in court so within a matter of days he would be sentenced and shipped off to an actual prison.   
He was awoken in the morning with barely enough sleep, shadows decking the underside of his eyes. One of the officers outside of his cell informed him that he was required to go in for interrogation with another one of the detectives on his case, to which he couldn’t help but smile. To think he had his own detectives working on tracking him down. He just got lucky that one of them happened to be his type.

The interrogation room was dimly lit, a cold, steel table in the middle of the boxed room with two simple chairs on either side of it. Alfred had seen this in movies, officers demanding for information, the suspect reduced to a shaking mess before the interrogator's very eyes. It was on nearly every episode of Law and Order: SVU, and truth be told, he didn’t appreciate those scenes very much.

His session had begun, and it was exactly that - on the interrogator’s part. Alfred simply refused to give any information but his name. And, if anything, he was ridiculing and mocking the interrogator. If he was going to go out, he'd do it properly.  
The officer, apparently by the name of Ludwig Beilschmidt, slammed his fist down against the table for at least the 50th time. Alfred wasn't sure. He lost count at 36.

"We know you aren't in the business alone, Jones. Your heists have been nearly flawless. Who else is involved?" Ludwig leaned in closer, examining the thief's eyes. "Give us a name and your sentence will be cut in half. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Ludwig, you know a magician never reveals his secrets.” Alfred said, delivering one of his best shit-eating grins. “Can you give this up already? You’re just wasting my time and yours. Don’t you have other criminals to go yell at?”

Ludwig sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he stood to pace near the tinted window of the room. Alfred knew someone was standing on the other side of it, watching and hearing every word being said.

Through the one-way glass, Kiku and Alfred somehow locked eyes.

Kiku was met with more approval from those around him than before when he stepped into the police station that morning. News of the Black Ghost’s capture had already circled the media online and in paper, and artists and museum owners could rest a bit easier. Kiku knew he should be gloating - and if he were honest, he _was_ enjoying the limelight - but something about the thief sitting in the interrogation room had and held his attention all evening until now. There was something about the way he looked at him last night as he was being escorted to the police car, the fire swallowing his eyes as he glared directly at Kiku.

It was enrapturing.

He was supposed to be aiding his partner in the interrogation, but Kiku insisted Ludwig take the lead. He wanted to see how this would play out.

“Fine. I yield.” Ludwig said, surprising the thief. “Name your price. What is it you want in exchange for information?”

Alfred tapped his chin, feigning deep thought. He already knew what and who he wanted right in that moment. “Well, don’t you drive a hard bargain. Tell you what, grab that officer that managed to catch me last night and I’ll hash out a deal with him.”

“Honda?” The blonde glanced back towards the window. Kiku’s expression remained neutral. “Why him?”

“That’s none of your business.” He said, balancing on the back legs of his chair. “No hard feelings or anything, I just really - _clicked_ with him last night, is all. Gimme one last chance to talk to him before I’m shipped off.”

Ludwig shifted his weight from one foot to the other, crossing his arms over his chest as he considered the request. There was a knock on the glass, a signal for him to step back out of the interrogation room.

“You can’t be seriously considering this,” Ludwig said, shutting the door behind him. “He’s stalling.”

“We don’t know that.” Kiku replied, never taking his eyes off of the man in the other room. “It cannot hurt to at least humor him. Go on your break, Ludwig. You could use it after dealing with him all morning.”

He brushed past Ludwig as he entered the room, keeping a cool expression as he entered, setting the suspect’s folder down onto the table between them. He shrugged his trench coat off, draping it across his chair to reveal a black button-up dress shirt, the sleeves stopping at his wrists. A dark blue tie was the only color that stood out against the rest of his ensemble - black slacks and shoes.

Then, he sat, finally making eye contact with the man across from him.

"Howdy," Alfred drawled, leaning forward and against the table.  

Kiku ignored him, opting to dive straight into business. “Before we begin, I will make one thing clear: I am more than willing to strike a deal with you. _If_ the conditions are right. You can lower your sentence with the right price, Ghost.”

"Alfred," The blonde interrupted. “No point in using an alias when you’re being put away.”

“...Alfred,” Kiku murmured the name as he shifted to open the manilla folder in front of him, the limited amount of knowledge that he and his colleagues were able to gather organized neatly in a pile. “What _do_ you want in exchange for the location of the other artworks? As well as the person during that phone call - your getaway driver, I’m assuming. The sooner you reveal all of this, the sooner we can go our separate ways.”

“Well, before we get into that, can you send that hardass detective off to get some coffee or something?” Kiku blinked at Alfred’s request. The blonde went on, “I would just appreciate the privacy while I confess, you know?”

He wanted privacy. Privacy for _what,_ however, Kiku had no idea, and a part of him didn’t want to find out. Nonetheless, he turned towards the window, nodding curtly so as to send Ludwig off. Maybe Alfred would feel more comfortable if it were just the two of them - despite the anxious knots twisting into Kiku’s stomach.

Once they were both sure they were alone, Alfred grinned at Kiku. "Look. There are a whole bunch o' things I’ll tell you: my middle name is Fitzgerald, but the kids in elementary school thought it was ‘Fuck’, I'm from Louisiana, I've never been to Disney World, and my mama thinks I'm a damn disappointment. But I’m not telling you shit about the family business.”

Kiku quirked an eyebrow, unamused as Alfred fed him useless information. “Tragic. Though, your mother and I share that disappointment.”

The thief leaned in closer to Kiku, the corner of his lip twitching into a smirk that made a hot chill run up the detective’s spine. "So, why don'tcha tell me a bit about yourself, Mr. Honda? Got a wife? Kids? A dog?”

Kiku couldn’t help the flush that painted his cheeks at the mention of a wife or children of his own. “I - Don’t see what that has to do with this interrogation. My personal life has nothing to do with you.”

“What, a guy can’t be curious?”

The raven-haired man cleared his throat. “I do not… have time for a relationship. I’m too busy capturing criminals like you.”

He hadn’t meant for it to sound suggestive (as if he were banging all of the inmates in prison, because, honestly, the only inmate he would even think about banging is sitting right in front of him), and didn’t realize it _might_ have been suggestive because he was too busy trying to direct the conversation back on topic. It was suddenly very hot in the room - or was it just him? Dear god, they needed to get a better AC system - and he loosened his tie a bit to ease his anxiety. Truth be told, he felt naked under that hot stare from Alfred, almost as if _he_ were the one being interrogated and questioned for a crime he didn’t commit. The only difference was that Alfred actually was guilty of multiple crimes, whereas Kiku was only guilty of thinking less than appropriate thoughts about the blonde in front of him.

Alfred chuckled, a low and smooth sound from his chest. “Criminals like me...now what’s that supposed to mean? You familiar with other art thieves?”

“So far, I’ve only had the pleasure of meeting you.” Kiku answered evenly, trying to ease the knot in his stomach. The tension between them was nearly palpable, and it amazed Alfred how Kiku could be so _clueless_ and yet so aware of his intentions all at once. “Nevertheless, you still have not given me an answer about my deal. Don’t you _want_ to lower your sentence? You only need to give us a bit of information - and as you have said, there is no point in hiding anything anymore. We have gotten you captured and your chances of escape are slim.”

“But there’s still a chance. Slim or not, I’ve got a chance of busting outta here.”

“Alfred,” Kiku leaned onto his elbows, continuing to press him, “ _is_ there something else you want in exchange for your information?”

Alfred tilted his head, his lips pulling back in another grin. "What else could I possibly want from you?”

Something about the way Alfred asked the question set Kiku on edge. _Everything_ about him set Kiku on edge, a delicious adrenaline running through his veins at the mere sight of him.

He’d never felt this way before. Not towards any criminal, not towards any colleague, not towards _anyone,_ period. And he knew that this was a very, _very_ bad thing.

He kept thinking of this bad thing before Alfred reached out and grabbed Kiku's tie, harshly tugging him forward. The sudden close proximity made his cheeks flush a deep scarlet, yet he couldn’t remove his eyes from Alfred’s. He looked him in the eyes, completely enraptured by the sheer _hostility_ that this man showed. Kiku was so used to being in charge, to being in completely control of his situations and hyper aware of his surroundings, but _this -_ much like last night - was an _extremely_ nice change of pace.

Despite the sudden hostility, Alfred grinned - a wolfish thing that only made Kiku more nervous. "Twenty minutes, and I get to do whatever I want with you. _Anything._ Then, you can get the answers you're so obsessed about. No fuss, no catch, just a good time and they're all yours."

He paused, already feeling arousal pooling into his lower abdomen, and abandoned his grip on Kiku's tie to instead lean back in his chair. "So, you either play nice and spread your legs to get your answers, or don't and regret it for the rest of your life. That a good enough deal for you?”

When Kiku was pushed back into his chair, eyes wide and legs trembling, he didn’t know what to do or say besides sputter out, “Excuse me?”

Alfred’s grin turned sly, "You can drop the innocent act, darlin’. Now, how about you move your pretty little ass to the other room and cut the recording. Unless you're into being filmed."

The detective certainly _wasn’t_ , but that didn’t take away from the fact that a semi-world renowned criminal just demanded sex in exchange for Very Important Information that could possibly lead to the arrests of other art thieves. The question of whether or not it was worth it echoed in his mind; was it worth whoring himself out just to get a lead on a case?

Several answers came to mind - yes, no, _definitely_ not, and how the actual hell could Kiku consider this proposition, it’s a definite no, and just because this redneck happened to be charming didn’t mean he could boss Kiku around - but after moments of staring each other down with even gazes, Kiku settled on one answer:

_Oh. Yes._

He swallowed hard before nodding, trying to save face. “Fine. I accept your offer.”

Despite the burst of excitement and adrenaline running in the man’s veins, he retained his straight-laced demeanor as he exited the interrogation room to disable the cameras and sound system. He couldn’t let Alfred know that he wanted this. It had only been two days, but Kiku could read Alfred like an open book. He didn’t want things to come to him easily, and Kiku had no issue feigning disinterest.

Kiku’s heart was hammering against his chest near painfully, threatening to break out as he turned back towards the door to re-enter the room. The second he shut the door behind him, he was pushed flush against the nearest wall, warm lips pressed to his own. Kiku was taken completely by surprise, and he was frozen for a few seconds before he allowed himself to melt into the heated kiss, practically feeling the hunger behind it. His hands went up to grip the blonde’s shirt, gradually moving to run through his hair before tugging.

Alfred grinned into the kiss, satisfied in seeing Kiku’s true colors. He shifted to slide his leg between Kiku’s, who whimpered at the contact.

When the blonde moved to nip at his neck, Kiku found his voice again. “You-You wanted this from the - _ah_ \- start, didn’t you?”

“Not really.” Alfred said. “I didn’t expect the cop who’d eventually catch me to be like you.”

He quirked an eyebrow, biting his lip when Alfred hovered near his ear to bite down on the shell. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a prude.”

Kiku pulled his hair particularly hard. “And you’re a dick. You don’t even know me.”

The Ghost chuckled, reaching a hand up to pinch at one of Kiku’s cheeks. “Neither do you, sweetheart, yet here you are. Getting hot and bothered over a little kiss from a guy you just met.”

The detective batted his hand away, shoving Alfred hard towards the table in the center of the room with a huff. Before Alfred could snap at him, Kiku knelt down in front of the other man’s lap, loosening his tie.

Alfred whistled, spreading his legs a bit wider as Kiku did away with the button to the man’s black jeans, slipping down his zipper. “Now _that’s_ more like it. You shoulda done this from the start. I woulda turned myself right in and spilled everything I know.”

Kiku didn’t answer, only glancing up towards the blonde while he palmed his member through the thin fabric of his dark blue boxers. This elicited a sigh from the thief, and Kiku swallowed thickly before pulling the waistband of the man’s boxers down, freeing the growing erection. Alfred kept that sly smirk on his face all the while, curious as to how Kiku would go about giving him head. He idly wondered if this was his first time with a man - or first time, _period -_ given the way Kiku was flushed and stroking his cock with hesitation.

Kiku shifted closer to tentatively give the head a swipe with his tongue. Keeping one hand on one of Alfred’s knees, he lowered his head deeper onto his dick. He brought his tongue to the base, licking a stripe back up towards the head before flicking it against the slit. The man above him shivered, and Kiku couldn’t help but smirk. Kiku Honda was no prude.

He dipped his head lower, taking half of his length into his mouth and momentarily pausing when he felt a hand run through his hair. What Kiku couldn’t reach, he stroked at a pace matching every bob of his head.

“Alright, so you’re not half-bad,” Alfred grunted, tightening his grip on Kiku’s hair. “You could go a little deeper, though, don’t you think?”

Kiku didn’t have time to even protest. The hand buried in his hair pushed him down nearly fully to the hilt, There, his grip loosened, allowing Kiku to do as he pleased. However, Alfred made sure to curl his fingers into his hair, gagging him every time he began to get used to the girth and pressure. Remembering the deal they had struck, Kiku did not complain or try to jerk away, despite an overwhelming desire to do so. He only kept eye contact with Alfred, tears beginning to bead at the corners of his eyes every time he was pushed down and felt the tip of his cock brush against the back of his throat.

The blonde took a liking to the way Kiku glared up at him, groaning whenever he pushed him deeper into his lap. Every time he let Kiku ease up off of his cock, he’d see the brief moment of relief come over his face before his eyes narrowed as he was pushed back down.

Kiku made the mistake of whimpering when Alfred bucked into his mouth, his hands curling into fists against Alfred’s thighs. The fleeting vibrations did wonders for the man, who laughed in a breathless way that melted into a moan. Kiku couldn’t help the anxious flip-flop in his stomach; he wanted to hear that again. And again, and again, and _again._

“Anymore and I’ll be done for,” Alfred said, easing his grip off of Kiku’s hair. “ And I’ve still got a good few more minutes that I wanna put to good use.”

Certainly not looking to have a mouthful of cum, the detective pulled back from his cock, coughing lightly as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He glanced at his watch: fourteen minutes to go. Given that there was (unfortunately - but Kiku would never say that out loud) no lube in the room or the room just outside of this one, it didn’t leave much for Alfred to do with Kiku.

As if sensing what Kiku was thinking, Alfred said, “We could always use spit, you know.”

“Spit - for lube?”

“It should be good enough -”

“Like hell it is, Alfred,” Kiku pinched the bridge of his nose, trying very hard not to call Ludwig back into the room and shove the thief behind bars. “If I had known I was going to be doing - _this_ with a suspect, I would have come prepared.”

Kiku’s face was flushed. Alfred smiled at this. “So you _have_ done this before.”

“I’m - I don’t have to answer that.”

“You’re right, you don’t.” The man suddenly pulled Kiku close, lifting him up and onto his lap, legs spread so the detective was straddling him. “But you _do_ have to find a way to finish me off.”

Alfred’s hands held tightly onto Kiku’s backside, sliding down until they reached Kiku’s thighs, holding him there. Kiku found that he didn’t necessarily _hate_ being this close to him. Not with the way Alfred was looking at him and touching him, practically spelling out his desire in the form of a hot stare and groping grip.

Kiku swallowed thickly, keeping his gaze steady with Alfred’s. He could think of a few ways to make the next twelve minutes enjoyable.

Somewhere in the middle of gagging on Alfred’s cock did the straight-laced detective find himself getting hard, and thanks to none other than himself, Alfred was in the same (if not better) condition than he was. The convict under him watched as he reached down to unbutton his slacks and pull his zipper down, tugging the waistband of his own briefs down. That wolfish grin came back once he saw how much Kiku was aching for this, despite feigning indifference. It took everything he had not to take hold of him, pumping him until he was completely dry and a shivering, moaning mess in his hands. Alfred wanted to take control _badly,_ but restrained himself and left Kiku to do the work.

Which Kiku did slowly - Alfred wasn’t sure if he was simply being a tease or if he had never taken the lead like this before - with steady hands, licking one of his palms before wrapping it around both of their erections. Alfred’s precum acted as a slight lubricant, slicking both of their dicks enough to rub against each other with ease. A shiver ran down Kiku’s spine at the warm, sticky contact, keeping his head down to stare at Alfred’s swollen cock through half lidded eyes.

He ground his hips against Alfred’s hesitantly, shyly; he refused to look up and into the thief’s eyes out of embarrassment. To resort to sex just for a few scribbles on a canvas - and to _enjoy_ it, so much that he had to bite his tongue to stop himself from moaning - was beyond degrading. Alfred had taken complete control of the situation and he knew how to play Kiku like a goddamn fool, saying and doing all the right things to get him riled up.

Alfred reached up to undo Kiku’s tie, easily untying the knot. Leaving it around his neck, he moved onto the buttons to his shirt, popping each of them off until he was halfway down his abdomen. Pink nipples brushed against the rough fabric of Kiku’s dress shirt, already semi-hardened.

Licking his lips, the blonde spread his shirt open before biting onto one, a yelp escaping Kiku’s lips. A hand came to rest on Alfred’s shoulder, as if to push him away, but there was no force behind it. Kiku’s grinding became a bit faster, and he slightly puffed his chest out so Alfred could keep licking and biting to his content.

“Real sensitive here, aint’cha,” Alfred quipped, taking one of the rosy buds between his index finger and thumb and pinching.

Kiku was almost too absorbed in jerking himself off and the delightful throbbing in his nipples to come up with a witty comeback. “Says - Says the man who almost came from a quick blowjob.”

Alfred clicked his tongue. “Touché.”

He sucked a few dark spots onto Kiku’s chest and collarbones, drinking in the strangled and breathy moans spilling from the detective’s mouth as he practically rode Alfred’s dick, his grip becoming sloppier by the minute. Which, speaking of, were nearly up.

“Keeks,” He said, though it was strained and hitched, “you got two minutes.”

“I’m - oh, _god,_ ” Kiku leaned against Alfred’s shoulder, pushing him further onto the interrogation table so that the thief rested on his elbows, “forget the damn time limit.”

There it was - what Alfred had been trying to coax out of Kiku during this entire “interrogation”.

It wasn’t the phrase he was looking for - “I want you” would have sufficed just as well - but he would take it, and in stride. Grabbing a fistful of Kiku’s hair, Alfred pulled him to meet his lips in a near bruising kiss, reaching a hand down and over Kiku’s to help finish the both of them off. They were well over the time limit already, but neither noticed or cared as Kiku continued grinding harshly and near desperately against Alfred. His cold and distant demeanor completely shattered and replaced by the moaning, quivering mess that Alfred had so terribly hoped to see. Who knew it would have been this _easy?_

Alfred pulled back and Kiku still had his eyes shut, absolutely drowning in the pleasure - which, Alfred thought to himself through the same pleasure haze, would have been ten times better had they had proper lube - and far too deep to care how shameful he might have looked. Oh, but Alfred saw and _certainly_ cared; face dusted a bright pink, mouth hanging slightly open and panting, pale chest and collarbones smudged with brown and red and purple. A drastic opposite to how he first appeared under the moonlight, gun in hand and ready to take Alfred down like the scum he was.

(Scum that Kiku was currently getting off on.)

It didn’t take any longer for Kiku to finally reach his peak, gasping and milking his cock for all its worth over their joined hands and Alfred’s shirt. What was already warm and sticky was made worse by the fresh teardrops of white, pooling near the base of Alfred’s cock.

Kiku didn’t slump over Alfred straight away, if only because he knew Alfred hadn’t quite finished at the same time he did. Slowly, since he was still sensitive, he ground his cock over the man’s strained erection, smearing sticky white over the length. As he caught his breath, Kiku leant down to bite at Alfred’s neck half-heartedly, not sucking nearly as hard as Alfred had done so earlier. Still, he felt the need to mark him somehow. It was only fair.

The caresses to his neck seemed to do the trick, waves of pleasure hitting the blonde so hard that he saw stars behind his eyelids. Kiku helped him along his orgasm, coaxing more and more out of him with slow strokes.

There was a moment of quiet afterwards, and nothing but the sounds of their breathing filled the room. For that brief moment, everything seemed semi-normal (when you took their surroundings and circumstances out of the picture, at least), and both detective and suspect wondered if this still would have happened had things had been different.

Both hoped that it would.

However, that brief moment was over, and Kiku’s better judgement began clearing out the daze in his mind. As he picked himself up off of Alfred, he inwardly cursed at the lack of tissues in the room, gingerly redoing the button and zipper to his slacks and buttoning up his shirt. Alfred stayed laid out on the table, and besides redoing his own pants, hadn’t moved.

“Well, Mr. Jones,” Kiku began, running a hand through his hair to smooth it out, “I’ve held up my end of the bargain. I expect you to do the same.”

The blonde heaved a loud sigh, sitting up on the table. “You did a helluva job, Detective. Really laid your life down for your country.”

Kiku rolled his eyes as he redid his tie. “Stalling won’t help you.”

“I’m not stalling. Ever heard of pillow talk, sweetheart?”

_“Mr. Jones.”_

“Fine, fine,” Alfred held his hands up in defeat, “You won fair and square. I’ll tell you where the rest of those crappy drawings are.” He stood, moving to face Kiku directly. The detective nearly took a step back, but held his ground.

He leaned down, a grin on his lips and arms crossed across his chest, and said,  “They’re -”

The door to the interrogation room opened abruptly, a uniformed officer standing in the doorway. Despite his police hat being pulled down, Kiku could see round frames over his eyes, along with blonde hair in waves framing his face.

“What is it?” Kiku nearly snapped, causing the officer to flinch.

“I’ve orders, sir, from Ludwig - he needs the suspect immediately.”

“Why? He left him under my jurisdiction.”

“I’m not sure, sir, he’s simply demanding to see him. He might be getting transferred today.”

Kiku narrowed his eyes, knowing damn well that Ludwig would never do such a thing without discussing it over with him. However, given the anxious way the officer speaking, Ludwig might very well have lost his patience. It _had_ been well over thirty minutes since they began their “private” interrogation.

With regret heavy in his heart, Kiku dismissed the officer and let Alfred go, who had lost his cheeky demeanor at the mention of being transferred to an actual prison. Kiku gained a bit of satisfaction in that expression, at least.

Once the two were out of the interrogation room, Kiku left soon after to find Ludwig (after thoroughly washing his hands and fixing himself back up into proper shape). Perhaps with a bit of convincing, he can get Alfred to confess and give up the whereabouts of the rest of the stolen artwork. He was _just_ about to tell him everything he needed to know, and the suspense was simply too much for Kiku to bear.

“Ah, Kiku, are you finished with the Ghost?” Ludwig asked as Kiku stood in the doorway to his office. “I was just about to check on you.”

That wasn’t right. He didn’t look upset in the slightest.

“Kiku?”

Come to think of it, that officer didn’t look familiar, either. Kiku would have remembered getting a new officer in their precinct.

“Kiku - where’s the Ghost?”

_That absolute bastard._

Now halfway across town, Alfred F. Jones cackled.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah shit, here we go again

Kiku dragged the bright red marker across another city, blotting out the name that had been scrawled on just days before. He stood back and stared at the map plastered across his office wall, identical lines and circles littered across the countries. 

Nearly half of Europe was covered in red. The list of places where the Black Ghost had successfully stolen artworks and artifacts from museums just kept growing, and Detective Kiku Honda was beginning to grow frustrated. He was close to  _ seeing  _ red, himself. 

_ This wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t…. _

He shook his head at the memory, at the pleasure that came with remembering. The Black Ghost - no, Alfred - was oozing with charm and practically seduced his way out, leaving interpol blind. Kiku was only a bonus. 

To be used and disposed of like some object - 

Kiku capped the marker and nearly threw it back onto his desk. When he managed to track down the thief, he would be sure to have men posted at every corner of the station during interrogation. He would even prefer it if they skipped interrogation and just sent him straight off to prison. Everyone knew he was guilty, he was  _ so  _ close to confessing after they...finished the transaction. 

The detective ran his hands down his face, scrubbing his eyes. Leaning against his cluttered desk, overflowing with papers and folders, he regarded the map once more. After London, the Ghost had moved onto Paris, then Madrid, Berlin, Prague, Vienna, Milan, Budapest… the list went on into Moscow. Every time, he managed a successful heist and flawless getaway, escaping from under interpol’s nose in the blink of an eye. His calling card, a silky black bandana with the word “Ghost” embroidered in white thread, would be left in the place of the object he swiped away. 

Kiku kept each and every one, tossed into the bottom most drawer of his desk to be tested for DNA traces. They all came back clean each time. 

He was so lost in his head and in the map before him that he didn’t notice his door being knocked on. He turned around as the door opened, face softening once he saw a familiar mop of sandy blond hair. “Arthur - I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you knocking.” 

Arthur waved him off. “Any new leads?”

“Not quite. I haven’t been able to pin down a pattern… it seems like he’s just hopping from city to city at his own personal enjoyment.”

“So he’s sightseeing by day and robbing near-impenetrable museums by night.” 

“It would seem so.” Kiku said, smiling a little. “He  _ did _ seem the erratic type.”

The chief inspector came to lean against Kiku’s desk next to him, bringing a hand to his chin in thought. “You still haven’t told me much of what happened during your interrogation. It’s almost been six months.” 

Kiku paled, standing from his desk. “It was - It was frustrating. I told you, I couldn’t get much out of him besides useless information like bits of his childhood and where he grew up. Before he was ready to give me  _ real  _ information, someone came by and picked him up.”

“Which we’ve identified as not one of our own.”

“Right. He has help. In fact, he received a call when I cornered him in the alley. They must be the same person.”

Arthur considered this, eyes on the map in front of them. Kiku regarded the man, crossing his arms over his chest. He was obviously thinking of something. “What do you think? Where would he go next?”

“I think,” he said, “you need a break.”

“Excuse me?”

Arthur rubbed the back of his neck, smoothing out his frizzy hair. “Look, Honda - Kiku, you’ve been at this case since before he was in our custody. I and the rest of interpol admire your drive, but… it’s okay to step back for a moment.”

Kiku opened his mouth to say something, but closed it. He uncrossed his arms, sighing. “You may be right. I just can’t help but feel like I played some small part in his escape.”

“You didn’t know. Don’t blame yourself.”

Half of it was guilt, yes, but the other half was resentment towards the thief for seducing him with empty promises. But there was no way Kiku could say that to his superior.  “I suppose you’re right.”

Arthur stood from the desk, walking towards the map and Kiku. “Why don’t you have a drink with me? It’ll be my treat.”

The offer was tempting, though he wasn’t sure if it was because of the alcohol or the person inviting him. Nevertheless, he found himself nodding. “That would be nice. I trust you’ll handle your liquor better this time?”

There was a fondness in his voice that made the blond flush. “Y-Yes, actually, and that was just  _ one  _ time.”

“Of course. I have a few things to finish up here - I’ll drop by your office once I’m ready.”

Kiku watched him go before turning back towards the map, marker in hand. He needed to come up with the next possible destination in order to trap the Ghost, but there was no telling which city he might venture to next. Judging from his previous heists, he targets popular tourist destinations. Which was straight forward enough, except for the fact that his trips were so unpredictable, jumping from Vienna to Moscow in only a week’s time. 

The man tapped the marker against his lips, eyes on the question mark next to Russia’s capital. He began to draw a line from Russia further east. Was the Ghost going to stop at Russia, or would he continue even further south into China? That would be out of Interpol’s and Kiku’s grasp. The thought made his blood boil.

He stopped once he reached Beijing, circling the city name. He added a question mark for good measure. 

A shiver ran down his spine, and he glanced towards the window. Kiku quirked an eyebrow; he hadn’t opened it due to the rain that evening. At least, he didn’t remember doing so. 

He shut the window regardless, running a hand through his hair. Maybe Arthur was right, he needed a break - 

“You should really lock your windows, sweetheart. No telling who could sneak in.”

Kiku’s stomach dropped while his heart skipped a beat. Alfred F. Jones sat leaned back in the plush seat behind his desk, feet kicked up over the countless papers scattered across it. 

Kiku’s hand immediately went to his side, but he had taken off his holster when he came into his office. Unarmed and caught unawares by the very man who had plagued his thoughts for the past six months. 

Alfred  _ tsk _ ’ed, stretching his arms up and over his head as he leaned further back in Kiku’s chair. “No weapon against a crook like me… You were just waiting for somethin’ like this to happen, weren’t ya?”

That couldn’t be farther from the truth - at least, Kiku told himself so - but the detective wasn’t about to actually entertain this thief by denying it. His eyes darted from his office door back to the blond, his voice miraculously calm. “I could say the same for you, Mr. Jones. I didn’t think you would even remember me.”

“Oh, I remember  _ you _ , alright,” He said, grinning wickedly. Kiku felt his face grow warm. “I remember  _ lots  _ about you. In fact, I couldn’t get you outta my head. And…” 

He reached down into the bottom drawer, pulling it wide open and tossing a black bandana onto Kiku’s desk. “...I reckoned I wasn’t the only one with a crush.”

“Those aren’t -”

“Oh, they aren’t? Then please explain  _ what _ they are, then, Mister Honda.” 

Kiku swiped the bandana from the desk, shoving it in his back pocket indignantly. “They’re evidence. That’s all.” 

“‘Evidence’. You had about… fifteen pieces of evidence and still couldn’t find me.” 

Alfred was just as infuriating as he remembered, and Kiku was finding it very hard to control himself. The urge to grab the man’s collar and throw him onto his desk was growing harder to ignore, as well as the urge to take his stupid, aggravating face and kiss -

He stopped that train before it crashed. That wasn’t important. 

“How did you find me?” Kiku asked. 

The thief grinned. “A magician never reveals his secrets. And you weren’t too hard to track. Only one Mister Kiku Honda in Interpol. Why, you worried I wouldn’t be able to find you again?” 

_ Don’t answer,  _ Kiku told himself, knowing that Alfred was trying to get him worked up - which was something that he was very good at. 

The detective walked towards the man, planting his palms on his desk. Alfred only looked up towards him, a glint in his eye and a smile stretched across his lips. Kiku wanted to punch it off.  _ “Why _ are you here?” 

“Still as straightforward as I remember. Thought you’d learn to relax a bit after our -”

_ “Alfred.” _

The thief frowned, leaning onto one of his palms while the other drummed his fingers on the desk. They were almost too close to touching Kiku’s hand. “Fine. I needed intel on a gig and figured you’d have that kinda info stashed away somewhere. When I dropped by, I didn’t think you’d be in your office this late.”

Kiku quirked an eyebrow. “Then why not wait until I left?”

Alfred didn’t say anything for a moment, glancing down to their almost-touching fingers and back up to Kiku’s eyes. “Who was that other guy in here with you?”

“Excuse me?”

“That guy with the stupid lookin’ hair. He was lookin’ at you like - and then smilin’ like - I dunno, it was just annoying.”

Kiku stood to his full height, blinking. “You… were watching Arthur and I.”

Alfred scoffed, looking off to the side. “Well, I couldn’t go bursting in here while you were with some other cop, now could I? I’d get put away for real.”

“You were jealous.” Kiku nearly laughed, were it not for the way Alfred’s eyebrows were knit together in what looked to be genuine irritation. No one’s ever been -  _ jealous  _ over Kiku before. There was never a reason for anyone to be, he hardly let himself get involved with people in that way. “Mr. Jones, Arthur and I are just colleagues. And with all due respect…  _ we,”  _ he pointed from himself to Alfred, “will never be anything more. You’re a petty thief. I’m a detective.” 

“Oh, but doesn’t that make this ‘relationship’ of ours a little more spicy?” Alfred stood from the desk, movements slow as he rounded and leaned against it. 

Kiku stood his ground, just a foot away from him. It was the closest they’ve been all evening - and Kiku would be lying if he said he didn’t want to get just a  _ tiny  _ bit closer. “No, it doesn’t. There-There isn’t even a relationship to begin with.” 

“So  _ this, _ ” Alfred mimicked the detective by pointing between them, “wasn’t on your pretty little mind for the past six months.”

He’d been counting the months since they met. Kiku’s heart pounded against his chest harder. “The only thing that’s been on my mind is capturing and arresting you.”

“If you wanted to get me alone, all you had to do was ask.”

“How did you escape last time? Who helped you?”

The blond tipped his head to the side, tapping his fingers along the edge of the desk. “Doesn’t really matter now, right? They’re not here. Actually, kinda ditched me after bustin’ me out. You could arrest me right now or do anything you want with me. I’m practically  _ helpless _ right now.” 

Kiku didn’t like the way Alfred’s voice dipped lower, and  _ certainly _ didn’t like the way his own stomach flip flopped over the thief’s suggestive words. His hands trembled at this sides, balling into fists to keep from outright shaking. 

This could be his chance. He could cuff Alfred right now and run out the door, announcing to anyone and everyone in the building that the Black Ghost was finally caught once again - and this time, his interrogation would go differently. They wouldn’t be alone, he and Ludwig would get the answers straight from the thief’s mouth and the stolen artworks would be returned, it would be so  _ easy -  _

And yet. 

Kiku breathed in deep, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows as he walked towards his office door. Alfred waited with baited breath, ready to bolt out of the window as soon as possible if the detective  _ did _ decide to cry wolf, but there was nothing but the sound of a lock clicking into place. 

He didn’t have time to react. Kiku was back on him - literally  _ on  _ him, lips pushing against his in what Alfred could only describe as hungrily - almost too quickly after the door was locked. He was suddenly  _ lifted  _ onto the desk, being pushed further back and knocking over a cup full of pens and a stack of papers. 

Alfred’s mind was reeling from the sudden change in the detective’s demeanor, his icy attitude melted away as hands gripped his hips to pull him even closer. It was as if Kiku couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t control himself now that the circumstances were different and Alfred was actually _ right here in front of him. _ Better than that, he was - just as Alfred said moments before - helpless against the detective. 

Not that the thief was complaining in the slightest. A hot chill ran down his spine when Kiku tore himself away from his lips, instead kissing along his jawline down towards his neck. Alfred tipped his head back, leaning further against the desk with a moan, shutting his eyes for just a moment. 

A moment was all Kiku needed. He pulled the black bandana out of his back pocket carefully, pushing Alfred’s hands back behind him long enough to tie a secure knot around his wrists all while keeping him distracted with sickly sweet kisses. 

By the time he pulled away, there was a dark red spot on the side of Alfred’s neck. Kiku took a step back, admiring his handiwork as the man realized what he had done. 

“Very - Very funny, sheriff,” Alfred breathed, wriggling his wrists. “Didn’t have cuffs on ya this time, huh?”

“Would you have preferred handcuffs instead? I get the feeling you like it rough.” Kiku managed a smirk, despite the brilliant flush across his face and racing heart. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t turn you in right now. Arthur is just a few rooms away.”

“He’d just  _ love  _ to come runnin’ to you, wouldn’t he?” Alfred scoffed under his breath. “Are you into bossin’ around poor bastards like that or somethin’?”

_ “You _ were rather bossy during our interrogation, if I recall correctly.”

“Let me outta this stupid bandana and I’ll  _ show  _ you how bossy I can get -”

A soft knock interrupted their bickering, startling both of them into silence. The detective was quick, motioning for Alfred to hide beneath his desk before he unlocked the door. Once the thief had scrambled past his chair and under the desk, Kiku opened his door only to find a concerned Arthur. 

Kiku cleared his throat, trying to calm his nerves. “Arthur, I - I must have kept you waiting, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s alright,” The blond said a bit too quickly. He tried for a smile, “I mean - I know you’re invested in this case. We can always push drinks for another night.”

There was a pang of guilt in Kiku’s chest, and he chanced what he hoped was a casual glance towards his desk. He  _ was  _ rather busy at the moment, but a small part of him was also looking forward to spending time with Arthur. 

Arthur, who had always taken the time to talk to Kiku, Arthur with the knitted eyebrows and semi-permanent frown, Arthur with the faint freckles on his nose. 

Kiku tapped his fingers against the door frame. “Give me twenty minutes. I’ll wrap up by then and meet you at the pub you invited me to a few months ago.”

Arthur couldn’t help the small smile that spread over his lips, remembering the place - and night - well. With a nod, he set off towards his own office, leaving Kiku alone with the thief hiding in his office once more.

“He  _ can’t _ be your type, Honda,” Alfred said as he crawled out from the desk, hands still bound behind his back. “Trust me, you need someone like  _ me -” _

_ “I  _ don’t need anyone,” Kiku said, cutting through his sentence. He took a step towards Alfred, eyes narrowed. “Especially not some criminal like yourself.”

The intensity of his stare excited Alfred, who swallowed hard. Shifting his eyes from the window to the detective, he dared to ask, “Then-Then what’re you still doing with a criminal like me in your office?”

“You heard me. Twenty minutes.” Alfred hadn’t realized Kiku was walking towards him until his back hit the wall, his gaze consuming and voice demanding. Hands were suddenly fisted into the fabric of his shirt, pushing him roughly into the wall. Slight pain blossomed in the back of his head. “I get to do whatever I want with you.  _ Anything.  _ Then, you will give me the locations to the stolen artworks.”

Despite the wolfish glint in Kiku’s eyes, despite the strength behind his grip, despite  _ everything,  _ Alfred still managed to grin crookedly and ask, “And if I refuse?”

Kiku matched his grin. “You won’t. I know you could have untied yourself long ago. You were  _ waiting  _ for something like this to happen, Mr. Jones. You just weren’t prepared to be the one spreading his legs.” 

The image - the mere  _ confirmation _ that one of them was going to be getting fucked sent multiple shivers down the thief’s spine, his grin melting into a nervous chuckle under Kiku’s hot stare. The detective was, unsurprisingly, right; Alfred could have easily undid the bandana minutes ago. 

The cat had caught the mouse in this game was now enjoying toying with it. 

Alfred didn’t have time to agree or even nod before Kiku was on his lips again with the same hunger and aggression, his hands moving to cup the sides of his face. Struggling against his bonds, he could only return the kiss, trying to match the desperation and thirst with his tongue and lips. 

Kiku’s hands moved from his face down to his chest, trailing down until cold fingers palmed the growing warmth in his jeans. Alfred’s breath hitched, opening his mouth long enough for Kiku to bite down on his bottom lip hard. 

Alfred almost pulled away, but Kiku kept his hips in place with a tight grip, growling under his breath. “You were less than gentle with me, if I remember correctly.” 

The blond licked his lips, tasting copper. “And you weren’t complaining, if I’m rememberin’ right.”

Kiku grabbed him by his shirt, practically throwing him against his desk. Alfred caught himself just before he bit down on his own tongue, barely managing to keep his balance as he was bent over the detective’s desk. Kiku’s hands weren’t immediately on him; there was an open and close of a drawer, then another one. 

Glasses askew and hair in his eyes, Alfred huffed. “Clock’s tickin’, detective. Or are you all talk and no -”

The end of his sentence ended in a yelp, his head suddenly yanked back by his hair. Black cloth was shoved between his teeth and over his eyes, his glasses pushed off of his face and set to the side. 

“You know, I really ought to thank you,” Kiku said, his voice suddenly right next to Alfred’s ear and dangerously sweet, “for the bandanas. I figured they would be of use to me eventually. I can’t have you making too much noise.”

Alfred’s heart raced, butterflies going wild against his ribcage. He couldn’t see, couldn’t speak, couldn’t  _ move,  _ left completely defenseless and helpless - that wonderful word came back to haunt him again - against a vengeful detective. 

He had something witty to say, as he always did, but could only form half words and sentences through the cloth tied around his head. He could feel Kiku’s hands on his back, tracing patterns until they reached the hem of his shirt, could hear the way his own jeans rubbed against the edge of the desk. Cold fingertips pulled his shirt up slightly, just enough to feel the skin underneath and mark the placement of each freckle. 

Alfred shivered when those same hands suddenly moved towards his hips, starting from the back and towards the front of his belt, a feather-light touch that absolutely drove Alfred up a wall. Finally, the  _ clink _ of a buckle being undone, that icy feeling spreading into his jeans, dipping into his briefs. He wasn’t sure how Kiku’s hands stayed so cold, but they were the things he could focus on as they moved further down, finally pushing his jeans out of the way. 

A whine escaped his throat when Kiku took hold of his cock, cold meeting hot and hard. The man’s fingers were unbearably and impossibly soft, swiping at the bead of precum beginning to leak out of the head as they stroked the length. 

Kiku’s voice was against Alfred’s ear again, low and murmuring, “If you make a mess of my desk, you’ll be cleaning it up yourself.” Another whine, and Alfred bucked against his hand. “Control yourself. I haven’t even gotten started.” 

_ Oh.  _ Alfred bit down on the bandana between his teeth to keep from outright moaning, raising his hips higher when Kiku’s hands moved to his ass. He wriggled against his binds, pressing back onto Kiku’s hips.  _ Hurry up. _

A laugh - breathless and surprising to hear from the uptight detective - rang in Alfred’s ears, nearly distracting him from his briefs being pulled down. Kiku’s hands were on him in an instant, tracing more circles that sent sparks running up the blonde’s spine, dipping lower and lower until he was spread apart. A finger lightly circled his hole, and Alfred’s anxiety spiked. 

He could hear the smile in Kiku’s voice as the finger was pulled away. “You’ll be glad to know that I’m prepared this time around.” 

A bottle was popped open, then shut, and that same finger came back sticky and wet. Part of Alfred wanted to know  _ why  _ he kept a bottle of lube in his office desk, and whether it had anything to do with that other cop that had his eyes all over him, but quickly forgot about it once Kiku pushed into him. 

His breath hitched, and he bit down on the bandana harder. He stopped making an effort to quiet himself – even if the only sounds he could make were gasps and half choked moans muffled by the cloth – knowing it would only fuel Kiku to keep going. Which is exactly what he wanted by that point, as another finger, then another, were added. He knew their twenty-minute limit was ticking away, and once this was over and done with, Kiku would be in the arms of some gruffy, sleazy cop.

But Alfred didn’t want to think about that now. He wanted to focus and zero in on the wet noises coming from behind him, on the way Kiku’s fingertips continued to trace light patterns on his backside while fingerfucking him so  _ damn good. _

There was a moment where Alfred wasn’t sure he would be able to last any longer, when he legs nearly gave out and his jaw ached from biting down so hard – but of course, that was when Kiku decided he had had enough. 

Tears stung at Alfred’s eyes, dampening the cloth as he caught his breath for a moment. Kiku’s fingers had left him loose and quivering, teetering painfully on the edge of climax. He lay slumped against the desk, head lolling to rest his cheek against the desk underneath him. 

“You can’t seriously be tired just from that, Mr. Jones.” Kiku’s voice sounded far away, but Alfred knew he was still right behind him. Cold hands took hold of his hips, bringing his ass to rest against something hard and hot. Alfred moaned, despite himself, wriggling his hips against Kiku’s cock.

“Besides,” the detective said, dipping down towards Alfred’s ear to nip at the shell, “we only have eleven minutes left.”

Kiku pressed himself into Alfred - finally, finally,  _ finally -  _ and Alfred saw stars behind his eyelids. There was no time for going slow, for caresses and shy moans, there was only time for Kiku to slam inside of him and make him cry out against the cloth in his mouth. The thief curled his fingers into tight fists against his back, nails pressing into his palms as the desk rattled under them from Kiku’s thrusts. 

In the midst of Alfred’s pleasure haze, he picked up on Kiku’s rough breathing and tightening grip, the subtle desperation beginning to leak into his cool demeanor at the reminder of a time limit. Eleven minutes and Alfred would be set free - or in the off chance that Detective Honda was  _ using _ him, he would be locked behind bars for good, this time. The thought scared him, but not as much as never seeing Kiku again, of never being able to touch him or tease him again. 

Kiku cursed under his breath, reaching to undo the knot that tied the bandana around Alfred’s mouth with clumsy, eager fingers. The first thing that left the blonde’s lips was a moan, followed by a breathy, “Someone - Someone will hear, yeah? That ain’t -”

“I don’t care,” Kiku said, pulling him upright and flush against his own body, “I want to hear you.” 

The statement sent shivers down Alfred’s spine, and while he couldn’t see Kiku’s face, he could tell he was getting close by the way he spoke and the near erratic timing of his thrusts. He would give the detective exactly what he wanted, pressing his hips back to match his thrusts with a newfound zeal. 

Their time was running short, and suddenly, he felt himself getting pulled back to sit on Kiku’s lap in what he guessed was his desk chair. The bandana tied around his wrists was removed to be replaced by Kiku’s hands taking hold of his wrists, bringing Alfred down to bounce on his cock. 

“Don’t tell me -” Alfred was surprised he even had the energy left to tease him, even though his voice was wrecked and wavering, “Don’t tell me you’ve gone - _ ah - _ and fallen for me, Honda.” 

Kiku huffed out a laugh, licking his lips. As Alfred kept bouncing against his lap, he reached down and gripped the blonde’s aching cock, feeling it twitch at the sudden contact. “Shouldn’t I be  _ you _ asking that?” 

Alfred gasped, pausing slightly as Kiku began to pump and stroke his dick. Kiku snapped his hips against him, reminding him of the time limit. “Six minutes.”

“I’m so close,” the thief groaned, resting his free hand against the desk. “God,  _ Kiku -” _

The detective didn’t answer except for a low moan, right there with Alfred as he could feel the delicious pressure building up in his lower abdomen, could feel the sparks beginning to go off in his mind. Five minutes left, then four, then three - 

Alfred had to stop himself from outright screaming when the overwhelming pleasure came in waves. Kiku’s thrusts slowed down to a stop as he came soon after, hot flashes of white bursting behind his eyelids screwed shut. 

The high never lasted long enough, and they both shared the sentiment as they caught their breaths. Alfred eventually picked himself up, shivering as he pulled away from Kiku and reached for the box of tissues perched on the right hand corner of the desk. 

He tossed the bandana that was tied around his wrists towards Kiku, who barely managed to catch it. “You’re sweaty. Pretty sure you can’t show up to a date lookin’ like you just fucked some two-bit thief.”

Kiku chuckled, still breathless and still slumped against his desk chair. He wiped the cloth above his brow and across his forehead before redoing the zipper and buttons to his pants. “I hardly consider anything with Arthur a date. Like you said, he isn’t my type.” 

“He looks like he’s into some gross stuff.” Alfred leaned back against the desk, rebuckling his belt. “I bet you all the money in my wallet he’s into feet.”

The man laughed - a loud and radiant sound that caught Alfred completely off-guard - and tossed the bandana back towards him. “I wouldn’t be surprised; he’d said some interesting things when he was drunk. But I’d rather you wager all of the artwork you’ve stolen.”

“Back to business, huh?” 

“I’m still a detective. You’re still a thief.”

“Forbidden love is always the best kind, darlin’.” 

“We aren’t in love.” Kiku said, standing from his chair to look up towards Alfred. 

The blonde took his hand, pulling him close enough to kiss him. “Then why are we so obsessed with each other?”

The detective didn’t answer, and didn’t pull away when Alfred pressed his lips against his own. Shy and hesitant, almost as if asking  _ are you okay with this, with me? _ to which Kiku could only reply with a timid tilt of his head as he squeezed Alfred’s hand -  _ I think I am.  _

Alfred took hold of both of Kiku’s hands when he pulled away, face suddenly the most serious Kiku had seen him. “You really wanna know where I stashed those art pieces?”

The detective wasn’t quite sure how to answer, settling for a reluctant, “Um… Yes?” 

Alfred smiled. “One condition.” 

Arthur Kirkland checked his wrist watch, then his phone’s watch. Exactly twenty minutes had passed since Kiku had last spoken to him, which meant it was time to drop by his office to pick him up. He stood outside the door, re-reading the last name printed across the gaussian glass - “Honda”. Should he wait a few minutes so as not to look so desperate? Which he wasn’t, of course, he certainly had not been working up the courage to ask Detective Honda out for a drink for weeks now. Or months. A year, tops. 

The man ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. Perhaps walking in a minute or two late would be best. He could wait a minute. Arthur would wait hours for Kiku. Or any other of the members of the precinct. 

Once two agonizing minutes had passed by, he straightened himself, smoothed any wrinkles in his dress shirt and coat before knocking lightly against the wooden door. 

No answer. No faint “come in” or “yes?” from the detective like he usually did. Perhaps he had fallen asleep? 

Hesitant, the man pushed the door open, half hoping to see Kiku asleep on his desk with a map underneath his arms, but found the room empty. 

The window was the only thing left wide open, blinds drawn and lightly tapping against the side of the wall from the breeze flowing in. Kiku’s desk was a mess, with papers pushed and scattered across it and spilling onto the floor, along with several pens and pencils. 

Arthur’s heart began to race. 

Immediately going towards the desk, he found the bottom drawer left wide open, revealing all of the black bandanas Kiku had kept from various crime scenes. One was left neatly on top of the scattered papers on his desk, the words “Black Ghost” embroidered along the bottom left in white. 

The Ghost must have paid a visit. 

And, as Arthur looked up towards the map pinned against the far most wall where Kiku had been taking notes earlier, he managed to get away with more than an art piece this time. 

Scrawled in the middle of the map, in bright red letters  - 

“Sorry about that drink!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love writing cuck arthur, i feel so bad for him but he also. deserves it

**Author's Note:**

> we stopped just after alfred asked kiku for sum fuk so the porn was left to Me. she also wrote alfred's pov and i did kiku's up until that point  
> i was gonna try to come up with some gosh dang way for them to get lube but got lazy, and when i came back to this i had come up with an entirely different scene and ending already ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ perhaps kiku and alfred will bone Someday


End file.
